Target Practice
by DisappearingAlchemist
Summary: Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye are both accomplished soldiers, but who really is the better in a fight?
1. Chapter 1

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Standard Disclaimer Stuff: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist, and wrote this purely for entertainment purposes and am making no profit from it.

Any reviews and/or critiques are appreciated!

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Colonel Mustang sighed dramatically as he leaned back in his chair, eyeing the paperwork before him suspiciously. He was quite convinced that the stack of seemingly innocent paper was breeding; surely there wasn't that much paperwork for him to complete an hour ago. If he only stared at it long enough, he was sure to see another paper or two materialize on top of the others. His dark eyes narrowed as he contemplated the work before him, daring another document to appear.

After nearly ten minutes of constant surveillance and no change he reluctantly picked up his pen only to notice a few specks of dust on his desk. Well, he couldn't very well sign official documents on a dirty desktop. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and gave his desk and everything on it a thorough dusting. Feeling rather accomplished he gave the clock a quick glance and grimaced. His men would return from lunch break in less than five minutes and he did not relish the thought of appearing as though he had done nothing the entire time. He had opted to skip lunch specifically to finish his paperwork; or rather, had opted to not endure another of his 1st Lieutenant's lectures on his habits of procrastination. Something he seemed to be headed for anyway he realized with another sigh. Still, he could get at least a couple done before they returned.

Several minutes and two signed documentations later he heard the voice of Jean Havoc outside his door, "The flame throwing bit _is_ impressive, but you can't deny her proficiency with a gun." The simple statement immediately caught the Colonel's attention as he realized that he was the topic of their current discussion, along with Lt. Hawkeye, judging by the gun comment. It sounded like a debate of some sort was going on, though over what, specifically, he couldn't imagine. He leaned forward slightly, trying to catch any replies.

"He's right," that was Fuery's voice. "She's saved him more than once during rainy missions."

"Useless," Havoc, Falman, and Breda all stated simultaneously. Mustang ground his teeth in vexation at their careless dismissal of his worth. His hands clenched into fists and nearly snapped the pen he was holding in half. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His own men, mocking him, and out in the hall where anyone could hear them! He was half tempted to burn the door and anyone behind it. Unconsciously he rubbed his thumb and index finger together slightly, letting a small spark fly.

"He wouldn't stand a cha -" Breda began, then abruptly stopped just as Mustang jumped to his feet, fists still clenched, knocking his chair over in the process. "Lt, ma'am!" Breda's voice announced slightly more loudly than necessary. There was a slight scuffling of feet from what Mustang assumed to be several hasty salutes, followed by Lt. Hawkeye's voice greeting the men outside his office.

A moment later the door opened and Hawkeye entered with Havoc, Falman, Breda, and Fuery a step behind. They all stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the Colonel standing rigid behind his desk, his chair toppled onto its side behind him. His right hand was raised before his chest in a fist, with a now broken pen dripping ink onto the floor. His left was resting on his desk, clutching tightly to a piece of paper. Hawkeye blinked, an eyebrow raising slightly as she took in the sight before her.

"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked, then noticing the paper he was mangling, added, "I trust that is not your paperwork you are destroying, sir."

"Just what, were you four discussing out there?" he asked, ignoring Hawkeye's remark, his voice dripping with venom. Lt. Hawkeye turned a curious eye to the men behind her who were doing their best to hide behind her with little luck. "Well?" he barked, quickly loosing patience.

"Falman started it!" Breda blurted out, giving the Sargent a push towards Mustang.

"Hey!!!" Falman protested as he fought to stay behind his 'cover'. "I was merely observing how the Colonel and Lieutenant make an efficient team! You're the one who started the remarks as to which would come out on top in a fight!" He pointed out defensively, his already narrow eyes nearly disappearing as he glared at Breda.

"That wasn't me! That was Havoc!" Breda shot back.

"What?" Havoc tried to feign an air of innocence about him while stealing a quick glance of entreaty to Lt. Hawkeye. She seemed to be unable to decide between annoyance at being used as a human shield, and the desire to know just what was going on. Seeing that he wasn't going to get any help from her direction Havoc followed the example given by Breda and Falman, and shifted the blame to someone else. "It was Fuery who said the Colonel wasn't any good in the rain!"

No one seemed to notice the small growl that emanated from Mustang's direction.

"I never said that!" he protested meekly from behind the still open door. "You guys were the ones to call him useless..." anything Fuery was going to say further was abruptly cut off as Mustang's temper, and fingers, finally snapped.

The resulting blaze snaked its way neatly around a shocked Hawkeye to skim past the heads of the four soldiers, cowering them into a stunned silence. Mustang tensed his fingers; his anger not quite spent; preparing to send another wave to his slightly less than loyal men when a single gunshot rang out. The feel of a bullet whizzing by mere inches from his face froze him in place, leaving him to stare in shock at his 1st Lieutenant. She stared at him over the barrel of her gun, a slight grimace on her face from the smell of burnt hair that now permeated the room, slowly being joined by the faint smell of gunpowder.

"Sorry, sir, but I cannot allow you to endanger the men in such a manner," her amber eyes wore the same cold hard expression as when she was apprehending a criminal.

It was quite clear to Mustang that she would not hesitate to fire a second time if he even considered calling up another spark, and the next shot likely would not miss. He hesitated a moment longer, looking for any sign that she would eventually give in and lower her weapon. Behind her his men were tense, not daring to move a muscle as they watched their battle of wills. Finally Mustang let out a chuckle and relaxed his hand.

"Keeping me in line, Lt.?" he asked in amusement as he righted his chair and casually sat down.

"Sir," she acknowledged with a curt nod of her head and stowed her gun.

Behind her Mustang swore he saw a quick transfer of money between Fuery and Falman. He blinked in astonishment. Did his men just bet on whether he would be shot? When did they even have time to make such a wager? He briefly wondered what his chances were of getting another fireball across the room and surviving. Better not to chance it, perhaps.

He returned his attention to his interrupted work as his men settled themselves into the room, resuming whatever task they had been involved in before lunch, and cursed to himself. The paper he had just finished filling out was horribly wrinkled and sported a small hole burned into one corner where a stray spark must have landed. He nearly felt like crying; this particular paper was for changes to the standard operating procedures of his command; changes he had fought for some time to acquire and were only just being approved. Only his signature had been needed to put them officially into effect; which, technically, it now had although he doubted his superiors would accept such a damaged paper.

Lt. Hawkeye came to the side of his desk and observed the paper for a short moment. Inwardly Mustang cringed as he felt her critical glare fall upon him and waited for the inevitable lecture. It didn't come, but then she really didn't have to say anything. Looking up at her he could see it all in her eyes. Annoyance, disappointment, and...was that amusement? That was the worst of all. He didn't think things very funny right now, especially with the rather large stack of unsigned documents sitting quietly before him, mocking him.

"Would you like me to request another copy, sir?" she asked.

Was she mad? Just how did she expect him to explain needing another copy? He gave her a small smirk, saying "No need." Reaching into a desk drawer he pulled out another pen and scribbled a quick transmutation circle onto the paper. With a flash he once again had a pristine paper, ready to be signed. Ready to be...damn it; he had forgotten about the signature in his effort to make sure he didn't alter the context of the document. He quickly signed it, hoping Hawkeye didn't notice his blunder. A glance in her direction proved she didn't; she was busy picking up the pen he had broken a moment before, frowning at the drips of ink scattered onto the floor.

"So, you were discussing which, of the two of us, was the better fighter?" Mustang asked as he endorsed another document, his voice unusually calm considering his reaction only moments before. The men all froze simultaneously and tensed, expecting a reprimand. Beside him, he heard an almost inaudible sigh escape Hawkeye's lips. Getting no response he continued, "Well? Who's the favorite?"

The four men stared at him in astonishment for several moments, none of them daring to respond. Mustang didn't look up to meet their gazes, but he could feel all eyes upon him. "You seemed to be favoring the Lieutenant, Havoc?" he had to hold back a laugh as Havoc sputtered a protest. "Do you wish to venture an opinion on the matter, Lt. Hawkeye?"

"Sir?"

"Perhaps a wager?" he persisted, starting to enjoy himself now that he had control over the conversation.

"I don't gamble, sir," she stated flatly, busying herself with collecting and organizing the small stack of completed paperwork.

"Not afraid of losing, are you?" He kept his head down, seemingly intent on his paperwork, black hair partially obscuring his eyes. His voice was misleadingly calm, as if he was commenting on daily trivialities, such as the weather. He smiled inwardly at his Lt.'s silence, and fought the urge to steal a glance at her face. _Not so humble any more, eh Lieutenant?_

"Surely you don't expect me to fight you, sir," she finally replied in an even, almost bored tone.

He gave no reply, he just continued to sign papers. So she wasn't going to rise to his bait that easily then. She had a point, however. He couldn't possibly strike against her, even in a friendly duel. Sure, he had dueled Fullmetal, but he was a fellow Alchemist. Riza, on the other hand, had no real way of defending against alchemy. She was far from defenseless, being one of the better, if not the best, shots in the military; but a gun couldn't stop flames. Not to mention that he really didn't feel up to being shot, even with a blank cartridge. He pondered this problem for several minutes, hardly paying any attention to the documents he was completing, before finally coming up with a solution. With a satisfied smile he placed the last paper on top of the pile of completed paperwork and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together.

"I think I can arrange something mutually acceptable. If you are up for a little target practice, that is?" His eyes glinted with mischief as he watched her organize the last of the papers, waiting for her response. He truly hoped she would accept the challenge. Not only would it be rather fun, but he had an overwhelming need to prove himself to his soldiers.

Hawkeye gave him a look that plainly said: _I know what you're doing and I don't want any part of it._ "I can go to the shooting range whenever I feel the need for some practice, sir."

"Static targets in a controlled environment," he dismissed the range with a careless wave of his hand. "Not very helpful in preparing one for actual combat." She said nothing, but he caught the slight twitch of her eyebrow and took it to mean that he had piqued her interest. "But if you truly are not interested I suppose you'll just have to make do with paper cut-outs."

"I suppose I will, sir," she said as she gathered up the documents and headed for the door to deliver them to their respective destinations. She gave Falman, Breda, Fuery, and Havoc a pointed look as she walked past them, causing them to frantically resume the tasks they had long since forgotten about. The door closed behind her with a soft click as she left the room, seemingly ending the conversation.

But Mustang had caught the slight stiffening of her spine and the burning curiosity in her eyes. A little more persistence on his part and he had no doubt she'd agree to the challenge. He'd have to be careful with her though; she'd quickly loose her temper if he pushed the issue too much. No, he'd have to be subtle about it; hinting at his idea enough so that she'd accept out of pure curiosity. Or just the desire to shut him up. Hell, either way worked for him.


	2. Chapter 2

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Once again, I do not own FullMetal Alchemist. I think I can claim ownership to the two original characters introduced here though, despite their being created for the FullMetal universe. ;) 

heh, originally I had intended this to be a quick, one shot type story. As I write this, it looks like it will take up four chapters. Hopefully it's worth it. :) Also, while it doesn't really matter too much, this story leans slightly more towards the manga, but does mention events from the anime. Chronologically, it doesn't really make that much sense, but hopefully it's easily overlooked.

again, any comments and critiques are most appreciated! Thanks to Rizalicious, Mustangfan29, and Dragnotchi for your reviews!

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1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye frowned in concentration as she fired her pistol repeatedly into the paper target at the end of the range. Gunshots, muffled by the hearing protectors she wore, echoed all around her as several other officers in adjacent booths also fired at their respective targets. She paid them no attention as she emptied her gun and reached for a fresh magazine. She quickly locked it into place and once again opened fire on the target, this time aiming for the head of the silhouette. She had already shot out nearly all of the paper in the area of the torso. 

She had only gotten about nine shots out when she suddenly had the feeling of being watched. Riza lowered her gun slightly and cast a glance over her left shoulder to see Colonel Mustang leaning lazily against the wall behind her, wincing slightly at the constant ring of bullets. He gave her an acknowledging nod and motioned for her to continue with a wave of his hand.

Hawkeye sighed to herself as she resumed her shooting, knowing full well why he was here. For the past two days he had been continuously pushing at her to duel him. He wouldn't elaborate on the nature of the duel, but made it clear that they wouldn't be taking shots at each other. He was becoming rather annoying about it all, and she was half tempted to just shoot him now, declare that the end of the matter, and to the nine hells with whatever he had had in mind.

Still, part of her was sorely tempted to accept. Mustang had a flair for the dramatic, so whatever he had planned was sure to be interesting at least. Perhaps... She finished her round and paused for a moment to admire her handy work on what was left of the target.

"Not bad," Mustang remarked from behind her as she gathered up her spent cartridges.

"Not good enough," she dismissed his praise absently as she placed her empty magazines and her hearing protectors in the appropriate containers, then silently berated herself for giving him such an easy opening.

"In that case," he quickly replied, falling into step beside her as they walked along the path between the training grounds and the main office building. "How about a little extra training?"

She glanced sideways at him. "Extra training, sir?" she asked, already knowing what the response would be.

He gave a small sound of acknowledgment, "On the parade grounds. It should be large enough," he said with a wry smile.

Hawkeye expelled a quick puff of air in exasperation, "Sir, we only just arrived in Central and already you want to repeat your little demolition incident from East HQ?" She remembered all too well the damage caused by his duel with Fullmetal, and the fact that both were required to clean up their mess afterwards. She had no desire to be stuck with such a task herself.

"Nonsense. This will be a whole new incident," he grinned as she rolled her eyes. "And as bullets wouldn't cause that much damage, I won't even hold you responsible for the cleanup," he added as if reading her thoughts.

"You'd need approval for - " she began, hoping to kill his plans right there, only to be cut off.

Mustang gave a careless wave of his hand. "Already taken care of. The Fuhrer is on a routine inspection of South City HQ, and the rest of the higher ups are very much interested in my, shall we say, 'new training program'," he walked a little taller at this, and she could nearly hear the mental praises he was no doubt giving himself for gaining some approval from his superiors. "So, if you'd be so kind as to accompany me..."

"Now, sir?" Hawkeye exclaimed in surprise as the Colonel veered away from their current path towards the parade grounds.

"Why not?" he called over his shoulder, his eyes glinting with challenge.

She found herself reluctantly following him despite her protests, "What about your paperwork for this afternoon, sir?" she was searching for any possible excuse now. "It's due by - "

"It's finished," he stated simply, cutting her off once again.

"Finished?" she stopped abruptly and stared at the back of her superior in shock. The Colonel was...finished? Without anything at all being said? Now he truly had her interest. It wasn't often that he completed his work in a timely fashion without at least one comment from herself.

"Finished," he repeated. "I also took the liberty of granting you a day off tomorrow so that you can recover from your humiliating defeat," the Colonel added smugly, turning to see the effect of his words. He frowned slightly when he saw that she had stopped. "Coming, Lieutenant?" Mustang called, standing casually with his hands in his pockets, the very picture of confidence. A light breeze ruffled his hair, and swirled the half cape of his uniform, adding to the image of bravado.

"Yes, sir" she replied with a defeated sigh. "And thank you for the day off," she added, not gracing the other half of his comment with a reply.

"Don't mention it, Lt.," he smiled, then turned his attention before him as they approached the edge of the parade grounds.

Riza looked about curiously. The area looked rather empty, with no sign of what Mustang had planned for them. Set about in a wide circle were numerous stone barriers, similar to what was used when he had dueled Fullmetal, but slightly higher. Mustang paused for a moment as he approached the edge of the circle, then headed briskly around to the right towards a group of men in military uniform leaning lazily against one of the barriers.

As they neared, she recognized four of the men as Havoc, Falman, Breda, and Fuery; two others she remembered seeing around the base, but could not recall their names. It was the seventh, whose face was completely new to her, that noticed their arrival first. He straightened immediately upon seeing them, and strode up to meet them.

He appeared to be in his late twenties to early thirties, and carried himself as if he hadn't a care in the world. Golden brown hair just a bit longer than the Colonel's bounced around his face as he walked almost as if it had a mind of its own. Clean shaven, and with an immaculately kept uniform, he was the picture of neatness. Yet somehow he managed to acquire a haphazard, borderline scruffy appearance.

"Ah, Colonel! I see you finally got your Lieutenant to join you!" the man remarked as he and the others gave a salute. He turned to Hawkeye, his green eyes full of amusement. "Glad you could make it Lieutenant! I had half a mind to come hunt you down and fling you over my shoulder if you didn't show today," he said with a wink.

Mustang made a small strangled noise in his throat, then hastily covered it with a cough. "Yes, well, may I introduce Major Thomas Durnhoft, The Living Stone Alchemist. He has graciously agreed to provide us with some targets."

"Major," she greeted as she gave a crisp salute. He gave an acknowledging nod as he returned the salute, causing several strands of golden brown hair to bounce into his face. He swept them back carelessly in a manner suggesting he was long since accustomed to such a maneuver. An air of good humored innocence hung about him, giving Hawkeye the impression that he hadn't seen any fighting beyond the mock battles used for training.

"I hope they will prove sufficiently challenging," he remarked. "I've been experimenting with different compositions and have managed to get some that can move rather quickly without shaking themselves apart.

"Lieutenant Kessler," the Major addressed the shorter of the two men beside him. "Kindly pass the word that we're ready to proceed."

"Yes, sir!" Kessler gave a hasty salute before turning and trotting off towards the main offices.

"So, what's the wager?" Durnhoft asked, turning back to the two duelists. Behind him the other men were muttering furiously amongst themselves, no doubt placing their own bets on the outcome.

"We haven't established one, actually," Mustang admitted, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

"I'm not fond of gambling, sir," Hawkeye put in politely, doing her best to discreetly examine the makeshift arena for some clue as to what to expect. She didn't find it entirely fair to be kept in the dark about the nature of a contest she was about to participate in.

"Not much of a bet then," the Major observed.

"If I may ask, sirs, just what is the nature of this exercise?" Hawkeye put in before either had a chance to begin naming conditions.

Durnhoft looked from her to Mustang in shock. "You didn't tell her?"

"I explained that it would be target practice," Mustang defended himself, looking slightly sheepish.

"That's all? With respect sir, that's what most people would call cheating," Durnhoft replied before addressing Lieutenant Hawkeye. "I'm to assume you are not familiar with my alchemy then? No? Well, simply put I create golems. Animated rocks basically," he said with a shrug. "That's what you two will be taking shots at once the audience arrives."

"Ah," she would have said more but a slight buzz of conversation directed their attention behind them. She had expected to see Generals and other high ranking persons, but it seemed as if the entire military had come to watch their show. As they noisily settled themselves around the circle she spared a quick glance to the Colonel to see that he was equally surprised at the turnout. As a group of Generals approached, she had to wonder: _Just what have I gotten myself into?_


	3. Chapter 3

Mustang watched the gathering crowd and tried to appear relaxed. Judging by the bemused smirk that was tugging at the corners of his Lieutenant's mouth he was only partially successful. He hadn't intended on making a show out of this little exercise, but it was quickly becoming one. Ah well, far be it from him to pass up an opportunity to show off a bit.

"Colonel Mustang," Lt. General Raven addressed him as Mustang and the other officers gave crisp salutes. "Glad to see you are finally getting this exercise underway. We've only been hearing about it for three days now," his expression was stern, but there was an amused twinkle in his eyes. He stroked his goatee thoughtfully, his dark beard a stark contrast compared to his white hair. "We," there was a slight cough behind him, "Well, I, am eager to see just how this new training program of yours works out."

"Thank you, sir."

"Living Stone," the Lt. General turned to Major Durnhoft. "I remember watching your entrance exam a year ago. Was impressive then, so I'm sure we're in for quite a show today. If this goes well you may very well find yourself running these scenarios rather often," he said with a small smile.

"Yes, sir!" Durnhoft acknowledged as the group of Generals moved off to their own private section of the stands, allowing everyone to relax.

"Is that a good thing?" the Major whispered to Mustang once they were out of earshot.

Mustang had to hold back a laugh. "Anything that gains you recognition with the higher officers would be considered a 'good thing' in my book, Major," Mustang remarked, then gestured towards the playing field before them. "Shall we begin?"

Durnhoft nodded, and turned to retrieve extra ammunition from the Sergent standing behind him, handing them off to Hawkeye. She gave him a quick salute before joining Mustang in the center of the ring.

"Good luck, Lieutenant," Mustang remarked as he pulled on his transmutation gloves. At the sidelines he could see Living Stone pulling his own gloves on, with his circles on his palms instead of the back of his hands.

"You too, sir," she replied, readying her guns.

The Lieutenant earlier identified as Kessler came up beside Durnhoft with a microphone in hand and addressed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen! May I present to you The Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang and 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye!" the announcement was followed by assorted cheers, and a few wolf whistles for the Lieutenant, prompting Mustang to glare about the circle. "Both have agreed to a friendly duel to see just who can take out the most enemy targets in battle! The challenge ends when one..." Kessler stopped and turned to mutter to Durnhoft, but was still audible over the microphone. "Just when does the challenge end?" Laughter erupted from the crowd at the question.

"When one or the other gets taken out of the fight. Or when I run out of energy to continue transmuting. Whichever comes first," Durnhoft's amused reply echoed across the field.

"Taken out?" Mustang heard Hawkeye echo. Looking over at her he could see a hint of nervousness in her eyes. He couldn't entirely blame her. He had expected it to be a simple matter of destroying targets; he didn't realize he was going to have to defend himself as well.

"I thought - " whatever else she said was drowned out by Kessler's voice over the speakers.

"Ah, well you heard him! Place your bets now if you haven't already! Duelists!" there was a brief pause before he continued, "Fight!"

At that command, Durnhoft dropped to his knees and neatly smacked his hands onto the ground before him. A dull rumble rose up from the ground beneath their feet as half a dozen vaguely humanoid shapes erupted from the ground amidst crackling blue light, surrounding the Colonel and Lieutenant. The crowd erupted into excited "ooohs" and "aaahs" at the sight.

Mustang didn't lose a moments pace and began snapping his fingers as soon as the golems appeared, sending out wave after wave of fire. Hawkeye, however, had hesitated just a moment in surprise at their abrupt appearance and only now was regaining her composure. The air soon filled with the sound of gunfire and shattering rock as she struggled to catch up with his tally. Added to that were the explosions of Mustang's own attacks and the constant cheering of the crowd; creating a cacophony of noise.

As each stony creature was destroyed a new one rose from the ground to take its place, leaving shallow depressions scattered about the arena as Durnhoft gathered material from below. Mustang briefly wondered if they'd have to worry about the ground collapsing beneath them as more stone was brought to the surface.

"It looks like Mustang got a head start over the Lt.!" Kessler's voice rang over the battlefield, fighting to be heard over the constant cheering. "She's going to have a hard time catching up now! Mustang has already destroyed eight to her five!"

Mustang smirked to himself as he blasted another walking statue to bits. It was taking more than one bullet for Hawkeye to destroy most of the targets, though she did manage to get a few down in one shot. Her speed and accuracy seemed to make up for the imbalance between their techniques, however, as more and more lifeless chunks of rock fell before her. As he destroyed several more golems he also noticed that fewer were now crawling up from the earth, than were just being rebuilt from the pieces of their fallen comrades. So it seemed he didn't have to worry about unstable ground after all.

Kessler's commentary continued, "Hawkeye's not going to let him win so easily, it seems! What great marksmanship! At this rate she's bound to catch up quickly after all! Looks like she lives up to her name!"

Movement to Mustang's right caught his attention, and he turned to see a dog-like golem bounding heavily towards him. He brought his hand up, snapped his fingers, and destroyed it only just in time as it made a leap towards him. It exploded in midair, showering him in dust and debris. _Dammit, I didn't know he could make them move _that _fast. _He rubbed at his eyes furiously in an attempt to clear them of dirt.

Some of the humanoid ones were beginning to move about more quickly as well, and Mustang found that he could no longer merely stand still while attacking. Durnhoft was having the golems throw punches now, and while they were clumsy movements that he easily avoided, it certainly didn't make it any easier to destroy them when he had to make sure they didn't destroy him.

Another snap, another explosion of rock. The air was starting to get thick with dust, making it hard to breathe without getting a lungful of dirt. He brought his arm up to his mouth, trying to use his sleeve as a filter. Another golem attempted to flatten him into the ground and only narrowly missed him as he ducked behind the remnants of one of the original six golems. It proved to be a poor choice of cover, however, as it abruptly transmuted into another hulking statue bent on pummeling him. Two other golems quickly joined it, and Mustang found himself encircled by the rock creatures.

"Looks like Mustang is in a bit of trouble," Kessler announced to the crowd. "He's gotten himself surrounded and if he doesn't get himself out of there pretty quickly this contest may be over! He's still ahead of the Lt., though! By five targets if I'm keeping track accurately, and – Oh! Nice move, Colonel!" he praised loudly.

Mustang had taken a diving roll between the legs of the larger of the golems; snapping his fingers as he did so, taking out two of the rock creatures at once. Loose stones jabbed him painfully in the back as a reward for the risky maneuver. He was sure to have some lovely bruises down his spine tomorrow, and probably elsewhere as well.

"Durnhoft!" Mustang yelled across the battlefield, "Is it an automatic win if we take out the one controlling these monsters?"

"Still trying to find a way to cheat, Colonel?" the alchemist's voice drifted through the gloom that was now permeating the area, followed by raucous laughter. Despite his taunting, he must have taken the hint as the golems' attacks lessened slightly.

But only slightly. They still tried to flatten him whenever he allowed them to get too close, but Durnhoft no longer had them approaching in droves. Now if only something could be done about the air quality, or lack thereof. Not only was he coughing at nearly every breath, but seeing was also now becoming difficult. If he wasn't tripping over scattered chunks of rock as he dodged about the arena, he was falling into holes. From what he caught of Kessler's announcements, Hawkeye seemed to be facing similar difficulties. At least he wasn't alone in that regard.

Two more large shadows rapidly advanced on him, and he quickly dealt with them, throwing even more dust and rock into the air. _Just how is Living Stone seeing through this mess to be able to control these things?_ he wondered as he sent a blast of flame towards a smaller shadow away to his left.

"Lt. Hawkeye is starting to catch up with the Colonel now! She's only three targets behind! Those canine ones seem to give her a bit of trouble though. They don't seem to go down easily! It's certainly – Ah! Watch out Lieutenant! No!! The other way!!" Kessler's voice shrieked a panicked warning as a horrified gasp escaped the watching crowd.

Mustang froze at Kessler's cry, realizing his mistake too late, and watched helplessly as the flames approached the shadow he now knew to be his 1st Lieutenant.


	4. Chapter 4

Riza jumped to the side as one of the rock creatures threw its arm forward, punching the ground where she had been standing a moment before. She let loose several shots, squinting at the chips of rock that went flying with each bullet before the entire thing shattered around her. She, and the entire surrounding area, was now enveloped by a giant cloud of dust, making it not only difficult to see, but to breathe as well. The light breeze drifting through the area wasn't strong enough to dispel the cloud completely before more dirt was added to the mix. She struggled to control her coughing so that she could make a steady shot at the dog golem that began to advance on her.

She hadn't been paying much attention to the commentary of Lt. Kessler, though she was aware that she was behind. Not by much, however, she reminded herself as she let loose two bullets into the approaching rock dog. It slowed slightly, but still continued its mindless attack. That was when she realized that Kessler's yelling of her title wasn't the excited commentary she had begun to tune out, but a panicked warning.

Her head snapped to the left searching for the source of his worry, when he screamed at her even louder to look the other way. Aware that she was losing precious time to react to whatever was coming at her, she quickly pointed her gun to her right. She had expected to see one or more golems bearing down on her, so it came as something of a shock to see nothing but a wall of fire only a few feet away. With a strangled cry she flung herself out of the way, feeling the intense heat of the blaze scorch the back of her neck slightly as it passed mere inches above her. There was an explosion of rock behind her as the flames connected with the dog golem that had only moments before been about to lunge at her.

"Lieutenant! Are you alright?" Mustang's worried voice cut through the gloom.

"I'm fine, sir!" she called back as she picked herself up, "Watch your attacks, please!"

Kessler's sigh of relief was echoed throughout the audience, "That was a close one! Mustang seems to be a little too eager to win this! Are there any wind alchemists present to clear this dust cloud?"

Apparently there was, as the light breeze turned into a steady wind, swiftly carrying the dust away from the arena. Loud complaints issued from one side of the ring as the cloud drifted into the audience before being dispersed completely. Hawkeye now had her first good look around since the fight had begun half an hour ago. The area was a complete disaster; holes from which golems had risen from the ground pocketed the circle. Loose rubble from destroyed targets was scattered everywhere, making it difficult to move without tripping. Eight intact golems still remained, though all were stationary; Durnhoft had apparently stopped their movements while they had waited to see if she was unharmed.

She stole a quick glance towards the alchemist, who was only just now resuming his transmutations. He watched the fight eagerly, but she could see the fatigue setting into his features. It required continual transmuting to keep the golems moving, and the effort was beginning to take its toll on the Major. As the stone figures jerked back to life she realized that it wouldn't be much longer before he was unable to make new targets. That didn't leave her much time to catch up to Mustang's score.

Hawkeye brought her attention back to the fight at hand, and noticed a large golem advancing on the Colonel from behind. He was currently having a coughing fit from inhaling the debri from the last one he had just destroyed and didn't seem to notice the large rock fist about to connect with his back. She aimed her gun just as Mustang finally did realize the creature was there and fired. She must have hit a weak spot as the thing broke apart on the first shot. Mustang stared dumbly at the destroyed golem, his hand poised for a snap, then glared at her.

"Lieutenant! That one was mine!" he whined.

Noticing two other golems moving in on her she quickly dispatched of them before yelling back in annoyance, "I didn't see your name on it, sir!" _Ungrateful..._

"It's getting close! Hawkeye is only two targets behind! There doesn't seem to be as many targets left now. Looks like Living Stone is running out of juice!" Several people in the crowd jeered at this, apparently not wanting the contest to be over just yet.

Hawkeye took out three more golems, trying to keep an eye on how Mustang was doing while watching both her footing and the stone creatures around her. It was hard to do; Mustang was dodging this way and that as he threw out blast after blast of flame. She heard several small explosions nearby, though she couldn't tell how many hits that added to Mustang's score.

She was on her last round now; how Durnhoft had judged so closely how many bullet's she'd require baffled her. As she danced backwards from two more advancing golems her back came up against an obstacle she hadn't expected to be there. She quickly shot at the closer of the two hulking stone figures and spun around, her gun at the ready.

"Sir!" she exclaimed in surprise at seeing the Colonel there, pulling back her gun instantly as he fought to regain his balance from the unexpected collision.

"They're both tied now! And with only one target remaining! Who's going to hit it?!" Kessler's excited announcement ripped through the air, startling both of them. There was a brief pause as they exchanged startled glances before both their heads shot towards the remaining golem simultaneously.

She was slightly closer to the golem than Mustang, and had a clearer view of the target as she was standing directly between it and the Colonel. She smiled inwardly as she pointed her gun. _Humiliating defeat, indeed._ Her finger had just begun to tense around the trigger when she felt a hand grip her arm suddenly. She blinked in surprise to see Mustang pushing his way past her, a hungry gleam in his eyes.

"Sorry, Lieutenant, this one's mine!" he stated as he brought his gloved hand up.

She froze for a brief second, rather shocked that he would just shove her aside so. Well, it wasn't quite an all out shove...but still rude none the less. But if he was _that _bent on winning such a silly little contest, then she'd just let him have the win. Really the only thing at stake was an inflated ego, and that was hardly worth getting into a shoving match over.

Although...the last thing Mustang needed was an even bigger ego. Not to mention the constant gloating that she'd likely never hear the end of. Then, of course, there was the smirk. It was something she normally found somewhat charming, though she'd never tell him so, but the thought of having said smirk directed at her for days, even weeks afterwards, gave it an entirely new quality.

In that brief second pause, she decided that she really didn't want to put up with that after all.

"...One target remaining!" Kessler's words struck Mustang in the face as he finally regained his footing after being nearly bowled over by the Lieutenant. Their eyes met for a brief moment at the announcement, before they turned as one to face the last golem stalking towards them. He saw Hawkeye bring her gun up and realized that he didn't have a clear shot from behind her.

"Sorry, Lieutenant!" he said, holding her arm to steady himself as he scrambled over the scattered remains of defeated golems. He pushed her more than he intended, but he could apologize for that later. "This one's mine!" he brought his hand up, ready to attack. Just two more steps and he'd have a clear shot...

His foot connected with a rock he hadn't expected to be there and he fell onto his face with a startled shout. Several gunshots rang over his head and he heard the unmistakable sound of shattering rock followed by the cheers of the audience as Lt. Kessler declared Lt. Hawkeye the winner. He pounded the ground once with his fists in frustration at his clumsiness before turning his head to glare at the offending stone...only to find that there was nothing he could possibly have tripped over in that moment. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated this, then widened suddenly as he realized the implication.

"THAT'S CHEATING!!!" he shrieked as he scrambled to his feet to face his Lieutenant.

She gave him an innocent look before inspecting her guns and deciding that they were too hot to place in their holsters just yet, "Sorry, sir, my foot slipped," she stated simply.

Mustang sputtered for a moment, his whole form rigid, before finally articulating a reply, "Liar!!"

Hawkeye leveled him with an even stare. There was no malice, nor even challenge in her gaze, yet somehow he still found himself backing down in submission. "You should get cleaned up, sir," she finally responded. "You look a mess," Mustang blinked and looked down at himself. She was right; he was covered head to toe in dirt, his uniform more gray than blue. He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the shower of dust that fell about him. Looking back at the Lieutenant he noticed she was in similar condition, though he didn't think she'd appreciate him telling her that. Most likely she was aware of it anyway.

"Yeah," he agreed with a defeated sigh as they walked to the edge of the arena to meet with the waiting Generals. Some were already talking with Living Stone; judging by their expressions and tone of voice, Mustang surmised that they were very much interested in using his abilities as training sessions more often. They seemed oblivious to his current state as they discussed their plans for him. The poor man looked as if he might collapse from exhaustion at any moment, the fatigue evident on every inch of his face. Somehow he still managed a tall, proud stance before the Generals, but Mustang could tell it was taking every bit of will power for the Major to do so.

If he had only paid that much attention to the face of his Lieutenant as they neared the group, he would have seen the slight smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. But he'd have plenty of opportunities within the next few days to catch it.


End file.
